The Discovery Job
by EllaMcHanney
Summary: Parker learns more about herself (and how she feels about Hardison) on the team's newest mission.
1. 3 in the morning

Parker crept along an empty hallway. The few flickering lightbulbs in the corridor created a dismal, creepy atmosphere as the girl tiptoed past door after door- and yet, she wasn't afraid at all. In fact, she was harboring a small grin. Parker was in her element: being sneaky.

As she neared the final door at the end of the passage, she could hear her friends as they bantered and laughed like usual. Reaching out to open the door with one hand, she adjusted the package in the other. She had been given one job, and it was to deliver the cake. She had decided to make it a surprise, so that they wouldn't know when it would arrive. Everybody loved a little anticipation.

"...when has she ever done anything right?"

Parker froze as she heard Sophie's faint scoff through the other side of the door. Pushing her blonde hair aside, she pressed her ear against the cold metal and frowned in concentration.

Eliot laughed. "Remember that one time where she stabbed our guy in the chest with a fork and flung herself out of the window?"

Her stomach dropped.

They were talking about her.

Her heart began to pound as she heard them chuckle.

"Yeah, well, we've already determined she's not exactly the brightest," Nate stated in an amused tone.

"Damn right," a low, sassy voice quipped. "That girl couldn't even remember the _birthday cake_ , and we reminded her about forty times."

Hardison. That last voice was Hardison's.

Parker sunk to the floor as she tried to understand. They were making fun of her, she decided. All of them. Even her Hardison.

Tears pricked her eyes and escaped down her cheeks, though she tried her hardest to blink them away. She knew she could be annoying at times, but she thought they had liked her. Especially Hardison… she had been sure that he liked her a little bit more than everybody else.

The cake was cold in her right hand, and she realized that it had morphed to a gun. _They were the only family I'd ever had,_ she thought numbly. She clicked the safety off and raised it to her temple.

Parker bolted upright in bed with a start, her skin slick with sweat. Glancing around the dark room, she ran the heels of her hand over her eyes once, twice, three times, trying to rub the tears away. Parker rarely ever cried. Ever since she was young, she had gathered that keeping her emotions on the inside was better. That way, nobody could see that they bothered her.

It was in the dead of night, however, and nobody was around. Burying her face in her pillow, she began to shake as she sobbed quietly. _It was just a dream, Parker,_ she tried to tell herself. _Just a dream… that keeps on happening._

Parker had never been religious, but she wondered if the universe was trying to tell her something. _Your team doesn't love you,_ it seemed to crow. _You're simply a burden. They all just pretend to like you._

 _ZZZZZZZ_

Parker started, rolling over and opening her teary eyes to see her phone screen lighting up on the nightstand beside her.

ZZZZZZZ

Peering at the light, she tried to make out the blurry words. She scrubbed her eyes ferociously, sick of crying.

ZZZZZZZ

It was Hardison, she realized. "Hello," she said to the empty room, trying to see if her voice sounded too shaky. "Ostrich. Singapore."

ZZZZZZZ

Sniffing, she reached over and grabbed her phone as she sat up. "Hello," she mumbled.

"Ok so I have an idea, and I'm not sure if Nate would go _completely_ batshit or maybe just _partially_ batshit," Hardison's deep voice started animatedly. "So tell me what you think about it."

"Go for it," Parker croaked. She inhaled sharply. That had definitely sounded like she had been crying.

"You doing okay, Parker?" Hardison questioned concernedly, his voice considerably softer than it had been before.

She gave a violent cough, trying to conceal her slip-up. "Yes, sorry," she wheezed pathetically. "I just... there was a tickle in my throat... I..." She panicked. Parker had never been good at lying. "I... _KSHHHHHH_...you must be going through a tunnel...we're breaking up... _KSHHHHH..._ seeyoutomorrowbye." She hung up and flung her phone across the room like it was a poisonous snake.

She sat insensitively in the dark once again, trying to grasp what was happening. She had never been much of an analyst- she prefered things in black and white. Right now, things were a confusing jumble of colors and shapes, and try as she might, Parker couldn't make sense of anything. What had just happened? Why did Hardison call her? How had he known that she was awake? What would he think of her now, after she so obviously hung up on him? _Oh, God._ He would probably hate her.

For the second time that night, Parker felt her eyes tingle and begin to water. "No, no, _no!"_ Grabbing her discarded pillow, she smashed her face into it over and over again. She wasn't sure what it would accomplish, but she knew it felt better than doing nothing. _Smush. Smush. Smush._ Every time she felt the tears coming, she would hit herself with renewed vigor, until she was startled by a knock on her apartment door.

"Parker, can I come in?"

It was Hardison.

Parker hated confrontation, so she desperately scrambled to her window with only one thought on her mind- _escape_. She'd already examined every inch of this face of the building more than once, and had determined that tiptoeing along the stone ledge below her window would take her to a fire escape on the corner of the wall; from there she could shimmy down into the small wooded park below.

Hardison knocked again. "Girl, you and I both know that I can pick this lock in about ten seconds. Granted," he trailed off, "it's nowhere near your record, but I can still do it."

Parker flung the window open, ignoring the cold on her unprotected legs and arms. A large T shirt wasn't an optimal choice for scaling buildings, but she'd done worse. Ten seconds. She'd have to hurry.

"Now I _know_ you aren't asleep, P," the hacker said exasperatedly. "You wanna open this door, or do I have to do it myself?"

The lock clicked and the door swung open, a triumphant Hardison standing in the doorway. "Damn!" He laughed, staring at the lock pick in his hand as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "Okay I'm not gonna lie, that '10 seconds' was bullshit. That's the second time I've ever picked a lock. Ever." He looked up, and his grin faded as he took in the scene before him: a bewildered looking Parker with puffy, tear-stained eyes in a giant T shirt, one leg out the window. He frowned. "Aw, _hell_ naw."

With four strides, the tall man had reached Parker was still standing frozen. Reaching under her armpits, he hoisted her up and away from the window, setting her down on the floor behind him. He then closed the window, turned, and squinted at her.

"Now why the hell would you tell me you were fine if you weren't? I know I'm a little weird sometimes, but girl, I figured at this point, you know, you'd tell me if something was up!" He folded his arms and looked at her expectantly, the faint moonlight shining on his dark skin. He was obviously waiting for an answer.

Parker blinked. "I-"

"And another thing!" Hardison interrupted suddenly. "Were you seriously trying to fling yourself _out of the window_? You'd rather go all _Spidergirl_ then talk to me?! You don't even have shoes on! Or pants!"

Flushing, Parker tugged the hem of her shirt down before speaking. "I thought you'd be mad at me for hanging up," she murmured sheepishly. Squaring her jaw, she looked him in the eye. "Although really, I should be mad at _you._ You just... you..." she gestured wildly at the door. "You picked my lock! That's breaking and entering! That's _illegal_!"

Hardison looked at Parker incredulously. "Are you kidding me? We're thieves. We break the law at least twice before eight in the morning."

Huffing, Parker abruptly turned and stormed into the bathroom, snatching a pair of sweats off of a chair as she passed. She wordlessly closed the door, glaring at Hardison before doing so. In moments, she had returned, her bare legs now covered. She crossed her arms and stared at her friend, determined to convince him that everything was normal.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on, or are we just gonna sit here staring at eachother?" The hacker mimicked Parker, crossing his arms stubbornly. "'Cause I'm cool and all with staring, but not when it's three in the morning and I can barely see anything because I'm so goddamn tired."

"If you're so tired, why did you call me? Shouldn't you have been sleeping?" Parker snapped.

Hardison's angry expression softened. "You've had bags under your eyes all week, P, and you've been acting even weirder than usual. You haven't been sleeping." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before continuing. "So I guess I just thought I'd see if you wanted to talk." His eyes narrowed. "But then you tried to pull whatever 'breaking up' shit _that_ was, and I knew something was wrong. So for the love of God, Park, just _tell me what's wrong._ "

Parker looked away. "It's stupid."

"Hey." Hardison nudged her with his elbow. " _Nothing_ you have to say is stupid." He walked over to the bed, dropping down on it tiredly, laying spread eagle as he stared at the ceiling. Parker tentatively followed, sitting at the edge of the bed, careful not to touch any of her friend's sprawling limbs. She took a deep breath. "I keep having this dream."

Hardison winced sympathetically. "Yikes. Dreams can be crazy as _hell,_ you know? Like I remember this one time, there were little m &m's just like, _falling_ out of my nose." He flailed his arms for emphasis. "That was trippy. Sorry," he said as he realized that he had just cut Parker off. "Continue."

Parker sighed. "I'm walking down this hallway, and I have a birthday cake. I don't know who it's for, but it's my job to bring it. I get to this door and you all are behind it, and I'm about to go in and I can... I can _hear_ all of you, talking about me. Saying that I can't remember things. Saying I don't do anything right... and..." she trailed off, unwilling to finish. She didn't want him to know that it had been his betrayal that had made her pull the trigger. It had been the one that hurt the most.

Her friend sat up, obviously upset. "P," he asked quietly, "did I say something too?"

Parker mutely nodded, and felt an arm reach around her and pull her into a sideways hug. "Well, no wonder you didn't want to talk to me." Hardison let a puff of air out of his nose. "I'd be mad at me too."

With that, he lay back down, tugging Parker with him. Normally she would abhor any sort of physical contact, but this was different. Parker was astounded that simply lying recumbent in her friend's arms was enough to make her feel drowsy and content. She wiggled herself around so that she was facing him. "Thank you," she whispered.

Hardison, already halfway asleep, simply mumbled incoherently.


	2. Parker Hates Skirts

**Hello friends!**

 **I'm terribly sorry I've taken so long to update- life happens at the most inconvenient of times:/ I wish I could say that I've spent the past month crafting a beautiful chapter, but unfortunately this segment of my story was the lovechild of a 12:00 am writing whim and lots of redbull.**

 **Thank you all so so so much for your reviews! I absolutely adore each and every one of your comments! They make me feel all happy and fuzzy inside:)**

 **Anyway, I guess I should stop rambling and hesitantly present chapter 2. Enjoy and review, pretty please!**

 **(I don't own Leverage.)**

 **((also, I am aware that Eliot's niece doesn't exist in the series. I'm just making things up as I go along.))**

* * *

"So we're doing things a bit different today," Nathan Ford began.

It was morning, the team in their headquarters. Parker, a couple of hours ago, had woke up tangled up in Hardison's lanky limbs, sunlight streaming through the window. She had struggled to repress a giggle, recalling how she had tried to climb out of it to escape Hardison, yet instead ended up sleeping next to him. He, thankfully, had acted as if nothing was different the entire morning, save for a brief "you okay?" before he left to get breakfast and a change of clothes at his place.

"Different?" Sophie Devereaux inquired silkily. "Different how?"

Nate didn't answer. Instead, he turned and gestured to Eliot, who looked murderous.

"My niece," Eliot seethed. "She's been kidnapped."

Sophie gasped. Hardison shook his head. "Damn."

Parker frowned thoughtfully. "So, who's our guy?"

She looked expectantly between Eliot and Nate, the latter already pursing his lips in thought. "The thing is, we don't know," he said hesitantly. "You see, there were no witnesses. No traffic cams. No incriminating evidence. Whoever pulled this off knew _exactly_ what they were doing."

Eliot stood. "My niece is a junior in high school," he added. "This guy wasn't just some creep snatching five year olds from the playground- this son of a bitch was smart enough to kidnap a _nearly full grown woman_ in broad daylight, in a public area, without causing any alarm." He swiped a remote from the table and clicked a button, conjuring pictures of a girl onto the large screen before them. "This is Kate. Goes to MSSAA."

Sophie perked at the name of the school. "MSSA? Montgomery Shrain's School of Arts?" Clapping her hands, she squealed delightedly. "Ooh, I've always wanted to go there! It was my dream when I was younger, but-"

Her gleeful raving was cut short by a withering glare from Eliot.

"I'm sorry," she said defensively. "Just trying to… you know… lighten the mood a bit."

"Now," Eliot said through his gritted teeth, "is not the time." Turning back to the screen, he brought another image to the team's attention: a picture of three girls laughing carelessly, their arms slung around each other. Parker recognized the one in the middle as Eliot's niece.

"Kate was last seen during lunch, by her two friends Marcie and Elle. I've already talked to both of them," Eliot continued. "According to them, Kate left to use the bathroom, and never came back."

"Don't you think it's possible Kate could have left on her own accord?" Sophie intervened.

Eliot shook his head. "I thought of that too, but her car is still in the parking lot. Now, I also talked to the receptionist, and she said that she'd made an announcement about somebody's black sedan left idling by the lunch courtyard on the same day."

Parker nodded. "So now we check on every traffic camera within a five mile radius of the school for a black sedan leaving the school?"

"That's the thing," Eliot replied. "The closest traffic cameras to the school are over a mile away, and there's definitely more than one black sedan in Vancouver."

Hardison understood almost immediately. "So even if we checked all of them, we wouldn't be able to tell which car came from the school."

Eliot nodded grimly.

"Fortunately for us, the school's choir had their pictures taken yesterday, and if you check the school's website, you'll see that every group takes them in the same spot- the lunch courtyard," Nate said. "If we wait a week, they'll be posted, and we can comb them for any black sedans in the background." He turned to Eliot. "However, I'm guessing we don't have a week to waste."

"She'd be long gone by then," Eliot confirmed.

Nate nodded. "Who here could pass as a high schooler?"

Parker hated skirts with a burning passion. You couldn't move in them. They were too flowy, too impractical. Yet here she was, swishing towards the front doors of MSSA, sporting the school's plaid uniform skirt.

"Why isn't Sophie doing this?" She whispered angrily through her comms, adjusting her backpack. "Isn't she the grifter?"

"Yeah, Nate," Sophie said indignantly. "Why am I not in there?"

"We've already discussed this," came Nate's exasperated voice in Parker's ear. "Parker's the thief, and we need her to find out who took the choir's pictures and take the memory card. Putting you in as a teacher would take more time, and we're in a hurry."

"Aha!" Sophie scoffed. "You don't think I look young enough to be in high school!"

As the grifter and mastermind bantered, Parker flashed her fake ID to the front desk as she strolled through the front doors. "I'm in," she muttered.

"That's great, Parker," said Nate, obviously relieved to have an excuse to cease bickering with the relentless Sophie. "Just find a way to figure out who took the picture, and swipe the card. This isn't anything high stakes- we're only on comms so that we can warn you if your cover's been blown."

Grumbling, Parker swiftly wheeled around a corner, ramming into a young man in a suit. Papers flew everywhere, and without batting an eye, Parker had launched herself into a back handspring, landing nimbly on the ground several feet away, smoothing her skirt and thanking her lucky stars she had worn shorts underneath. The man she had impacted was staring at her, bewildered. "How did you-"

"Gymnastics," Parker blurted loudly. "I take gymnastics. Yep yep." She nodded enthusiastically, swinging her arms nervously at her sides and staring uncomfortably into his brown eyes. "I looooove to… flip and stuff."

Despite her blundering awkwardness, the handsome man nodded and began to gather his papers from the ground. She swooped down to assist him, silently berating herself. _You looooove to_ " _flip" and "stuff"? What the hell, Parker?_

As she scooped up the last of the scattered contents of the teacher's folder, she gasped, noting the camera around his neck. "You're the photographer!"

The man, reaching a hand down to assist Parker as they both stood, nodded amusedly. "Yes, that's me. I'm Mr. Cragshaw." Glancing at Parker again, he seemed to finally take in her athletic body and pixie like face. "You can… call me Dan, though," he said smoothly with a grin. "And you are?"

"Uh… me. Yes. My name is…" Parker faltered, desperately trying to remember her alias.

" _Cara,_ Parker!" Sophie hissed in her ear.

"Cara." Parker nodded, rocking back on her heels. "My name's Cara. Like Delevingne, only… you know… not a model."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Dan said slyly. "I think you could definitely be one if you wanted to."

"Alright, _alright,"_ Hardison grumbled. "Ain't this freak supposed to be following some sort of school code? Teachers don't flirt with the kids. That's _nasty_. Besides," he muttered angrily. "Not like he's good-looking enough to be hitting on her anyway."

"Now Parker, listen to me," Sophie said urgently. "Hardison may be right, but this guy is your direct tie to the camera. Flirt back, or you'll never get close to it. Get him in his office, get close enough to slip it off, and distract him long enough to swipe the card. Simple."

Parker's heart started thumping. _Flirt?_ The last time she had tried to flirt with a target, his finger ended up broken. Break into a vault? Easy. Seduce a stranger? Not so much. Parker didn't do romance.

She had to try, though.

 _For Eliot,_ she thought grimly.

"You're not so bad looking yourself," she giggled. Remembering past lessons with Sophie, she began twisting a strand of hair in her fingers.

Dan, evidently foolish enough to fall for Parker's bluff, once again grinned with a gleam in his eye. "You think?"

Nodding coyly, Parker approached him and traced a finger over his collar. "If we could talk somewhere in private, maybe I could tell you what else I think about you."

 _Barf,_ she thought miserably. _Barf, barf, barf._

Faintly, she heard Hardison making a strangled sound.

"My office is right down here, if you'd like to… talk," the perverted photographer answered.

 _I'd rather die,_ thought Parker.

"I'd love to," she purred.


End file.
